


Strangers

by Rennet (SilverScrap)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: One-Sided Attraction, Poor Life Choices, Spark Sex, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-01 07:37:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4011301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverScrap/pseuds/Rennet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Self- prompt: In which Starscream is just as much an idiot as everyone thinks, and Silverscrap leaves an impression.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> Self- prompt: In which Starscream is just as much an idiot as everyone thinks, and Silverscrap leaves an impression. Also, I apologize for any AU-ness..

For Primus' sake, Lord Megatron was **scary** , Starscream thought, stalking from the command room with what little dignity remained to his name. And precious little it was- the Decepticon leader seemed intent on placing the blame for the recent Decepticon losses squarely on Starscream's wingplates. And of course, all the other 'Con commanders thought it was politic to point and laugh, to sneer at him from behind raised servos, as if it was **funny** to be threatened by their supreme leader.

The Decepticon leader hadn't won his place by smiling and asking politely. He'd had no chance but to repeatedly apologize, and keep the table between himself and his leader. As if it was **his** fault they were running out of mechs, and losing more ground than they gained. It wasn't  FAIR, for Primus' sake. And in the meantime, Starscream was treated like a daft sparkling, and patronized in every way possible.

"What are you looking at, rust bucket?!" he snarled, as soon as he'd stopped ex-venting and pacing angrily enough to notice he had an audience. And it was an oddly apt description. Except for the gleaming Decepticon insignia, standing boldly out on the opposite 'con's chest- plate, the bot seemed like he should be offline. His frame was scraped and dented in more places than one could hope to count, his paint was cracked and peeling, and the original color was almost impossible to determine.

For a brief moment, Starscream's optics narrowed. He'd never met this 'con before. Not that he knew all of them. But he certainly knew the ones who served on Megatron's flagship. This bot wasn't familiar. And then he decided he didn't care. Megatron knew how to take care of himself. "Frag you." he snarled instead, and turned to leave. He just wanted a fuel cube and his berth.

The reply, however, brought him up short. "Don't mind if you do." Slowly, almost Holo-net movie style, Starscream turned back toward the other mech, optics wide. " **What** did you say?" The other mech snorted, his own optics trailing over Starscream's frame like only a sparkbond should. It was possibly indecent! 

"I **said** ," the strange mech stressed the word, **"** that I want you to frag me."

 


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silverscrap has a dirty processor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is coming out vastly different than I intended! Ah well, I'll just have to give my muse a bath after this,

Starscream stared. And stared some more. Was this mech out of his Primus-blessed processor? He didn't know which horrified him more, the state of this mech, or the fact that he had the spark to ask him to frag him? Who even **WAS** he?!

"Do you know who I am?!" he opted to hiss, finally, realizing he'd been standing there staring at the other mech with his mouth open. And the other mech was still smirking, blue (blue?) optics fixed on him. "I could have you arr-" Starscream began again, assuming a harsher tone. "Course I know who you are." the other mech interrupted, dismissively. "You're Starscream, aren'tcha? Lord Megatron's second in command, Decepticon warrior, and so on, and so on... You're the mech who botched our last fight. How'd you explain **that** to our supreme leader?" He paused, then added, "Now, you gonna frag me or not? I'd wager you've not got much else to do..."

There was really no way to answer that, and Starscream wasn't even going to try. "All I **want** ," he stressed the word, "is my berth.... Your name is...?" he added, fully intending to report this encounter. "Besides, even if i said yes- which no way in Primus' name is going to happen- your very proposition seems as if you've posed this question before. To other mecha." He paused, then added, icily, "Who, might I ask, are **you**?" He was fully intent on reporting this encounter. 

"The name's Silverscrap." the other mech replied, affecting an air of nonchalant boredom. "And no, actually. I fancy flightframes- real flightframes- and I'm sure as slag not going to ask Megatron. That leaves you- as, well, unremarkable as you are." Starscream was staring again. Did this mech have no respect? For anyone? This.. This was frankly horrifying. If *all* of Decepticon discipline was slipping this far....

 

When he recovered enough from his shock, Silverscrap was smirking again. "Whatsa matter... Screamy? How'd you even get that name, anyways? Hmm?" His tone was just shy of a sly purr. That did it, and rage overrode the more rational part of Starscream's processor. He charged the smaller mech, optics blazing. "How DARE you insult me in such a way?! I'll rip your spark out!" he bellowed.

 

Instead of fleeing, however, Silverscrap met him head on, with a titanic clash of metal and a shower of sparks. And to Starscream's growing shock, the smaller mech seemed to be giving as good as he got. Starscream headbutted him, Silverscrap stomped on one of his 'pedes. Starscream clawed his chest- plate, Silverscrap grabbed one of his wing- plates and pulled... Hard.  After all, what was a few more dents and scrapes to a mech already covered in them? And he was used to fighting angry 'Cons, besides... He even enjoyed it to an extent. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are gold! Or silver!


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silverscrap gets (mostly) what he wants; Starscream just tries to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silverscrap's a pain.

In the end, the fight was rough, violent even, the line between what Silverscrap was trying to achieve and what Starscream was trying to achieve first blurring, then dissolving altogether. This mech was tougher than he looked, Starscream thought, warily, before a particularly hard pull on one of his wingplates- how could Silverscrap even *reach* up there?- incited him to respond, lashing clawed hands across Silverscrap's chest-plate before kicking him back, following up the attack by pinning the smaller mech under him.

"ENOUGH!" Starscream growled, vocalizer vibrating with the force of the word (which was right before Silverscrap kicked him in the interface array. Slag, it hurt! He screeched, and fell back, before pinning Silverscrap with renewed ferocity. If Airachnid EVER learned of this... Slag, if ANYONE did... he'd be ruined!

Fortunately, the hallway in which he'd been accosted was a smaller one, not often used. His reputation was safe. But that didn't mean he would spare this bot. Especially after... whatever the slag that had been. "I should offline you, you little-" No. Not fragger. Not after... *that*.

The smaller mech still lay where he'd been pinned- slag, how had he managed to land looking attractive? Starscream snarled with anger, placing a pede on the smaller mech's chest- plates and hopefully keeping him there. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't-"

"Maybe because Lord Megatron's right behind you?" Silverscrap suggested, blue optics wide and innocent... too innocent.

"Starscream." rumbled a familiar voice, behind him, before Starscream could so much as react. "Kindly explain why you're thrashing a mech half your size?" Oh, scrap.

Starscream didn't even bother to turn around- he shifted to alt-mode and fled.

Leaving Silverscrap to rise from the floor, examine his servos, and then grin at his trine-mate Roller. "Told you that ability was useful." Roller bared sharpened dentae in a matching grin. "Wish I coulda seen his face." And off they went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silverscrap is *still* a pain. And Yay! My second finished fic!

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I think I've woken my muse up now. May not be such a good thing. Anyways, reviews are welcomed!


End file.
